


The Universe is Dark and Cold, But His Hands are Not

by Papallion



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensory Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Papallion/pseuds/Papallion
Summary: Sometimes Siebren de Kuiper needs to disconnect himself from the world, and Akande is happy to help him.
Relationships: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu/Sigma | Siebren de Kuiper
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Season of Kink





	The Universe is Dark and Cold, But His Hands are Not

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EdgeLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgeLady/gifts).



> thanks to EdgeLady for beta-ing for me!

Siebren was blind, but that didn’t matter at the moment. When Overwatch had him under their control they did many things to him, and one was severing the connection between his eyes and his brain. His eyes still worked, but they weren’t hooked up to anything.

He didn’t know if it was by design or mistake. A Talon cyberneticist had given him the external relays, since it was easier and safer than opening his skull again.

Before putting on the sensory deprivation helmet he turned off the relays, fearing the helmet would react poorly with his cybernetics. It didn’t disrupt the connection like he feared it would. 

Rather, it simply blocked out the light.

And sound.

And scent, and, of course, he could not taste.

His body stocking covered his entire body, and he had put the feet on for a change. It kept him at a stable temperature, and blocked all but the most extreme sensations.

He floated, arms crossed in front of him, waiting.

He was disconnected from reality, unfettered from everything, his mind wandering and free from pain. The light wasn’t too bright, his skin didn’t tingle, and his legs weren’t nearly as numb as they usually were.

Years in poor conditions at the hands of Overwatch had harmed him in ways that would linger forever.

He floated in blissful silence. There were no distractions. There was nothing to hurt him. There was no one to yell at him. All of the fragments of people that lived in his head were still and quiet. There was nothing, and he was alone. But that was OK. 

Eventually he did feel something.

Someone was squeezing his shoulder, two quick squeezes, a pause, then a long squeeze.

“I’m here,” he said, and his voice was quiet and far away. He had been daydreaming about a nebula and was slow to answer.

There were two more quick squeezes, a pause, and two more quick squeezes.

“Yes, I’m here. I’m ready.” His voice echoed in his helmet.

One long squeeze, and two quick squeezes, and Siebren took an expectant breath. It was time! He counted to ten, but had no way to judge how long ten seconds was.

He waited, holding his breath.

How long had it been?

As he wondered if he ever felt the squeeze code at all, his hands were pulled from his chest and extended from his side, and he obediently held them out. Siebren felt his bodysuit unzip, and two fingers draw the zipper down, running along his skin as they did so. The air was almost bitingly cold on his skin, warmed from the body stocking. The twin trails of warmth faded, though, leaving him with a gash of cold along his front.

It didn’t last long.

He could feel breath upon him, warm and damp, then a soft mouth pressing kisses along the front closure. Siebren felt the cold seeping in along the hem as the mouth lingered over his breastbone. Warm fingers spread along his cooling chest, running through his chest hair.

Siebren’s breath caught in his throat. The fingers felt good on his skin, tugging lightly on his chest hair as they stroked him.

His hair was regrowing, and the replacement skin O’Deorain had used to repair his damaged head would let him grow hair.

For now he enjoyed the warm hands massaging his chest, and eventually they grabbed his breasts.

One thick thumb flicked a nipple and Siebrean groaned into his helmet. The sound echoed around him.

He arched his back and the hands groped and squeezed, warm spots on his cold chest. Just how cold was the room around him? The breath on his chest was unable to keep the entirety of the chill at bay.

At least it did until the lips locked around his left nipple.

The left hand strayed to his waist while the right dragged its thumbnail across the nipple, and Siebren was certain they were red with blush. He threw his head back, unable to form solid words as the left hand trailed down.

The zipper was undone completely , and Siebren was as well once those powerful fingertips pressed into the soft flesh above his groin. He whimpered in anticipation as a hot tongue dragged itself to the center of his chest, and warm lips worked their way down.

Thumbs hooked around the bottom of the body stocking, pulling just right to free Siebren’s throbbing erection. He could feel droplets already forming, and he trembled in the cold. It was then he heard the first thing he’d heard since he put the helmet on.

“You don’t get to come until I say you can,” Akande Ogundimu’s rich voice purred in his helmet. The sound was a physical thing and it rolled around his face and neck.

“Understood,” he said in a shaking voice. 

He felt three quick squeezes on his shoulder; he must have sounded faint.

“Go on, please, dear lord, go on,” he hissed in Dutch. “Green,” he managed to say in English when the squeezes came again.

The warm lips were only a hint of the hot, wet mouth that engulfed him.

While the lips pulled his foreskin back and tongue pressed upon the slit of his head.

Siebren almost came right there, but pressure along the bottom of his shaft denied him his relief. 

He never heard the lube pop open, which always made his cock twitch, but he did feel the hand reach between him and the body stocking and press a finger in. He writhed around it, wanting more, and he started chanting and begging in Dutch for it.

The hand was pressed snug against his ass by the body stocking, and he wondered how he was going to get ruined. Siebren didn’t have to wonder for long, though, as he felt cold along his ass crack; was there a second zipper?

How did the suit work, anyway?

It resembled the lining to one of his space suits. Of course they didn’t have as many openings as the ones he used in Talon. They still had the same press-tap closures, though. He had always found space suits comfortable, mainly with the latest advances in sizing. He always enjo- “god...” he whispered as something searing hot and powerful penetrated him.

He froze and leaned back against a warm, solid body, and felt the concerned squeezes on his shoulder.

“Oh, we are so good to continue...” he breathed softly. He quietly began counting down. “Tien, negen, acht,” he said softly and could feel a squeeze on his hips. “Zven, zes, vijf, vier,” he groaned, and felt a subtle shift behind him. 

“Drie, twee, één,” Akande’s voice crooned in his helmet, and Siebren saw white.

He was stretched, he was filled, he was somewhere else. He knew that if he opened his mouth everyone could see Akande’s cock in his throat. Powerful hands gripped his hips, the fingers threatening to leave bruises in the morning, shifting his position so Akande could bury himself.

He leaned back, and while he knew there was a body behind him, he couldn’t feel anything except that magnificent cock. As one hand moved to his own cock to relieve that incessant aching need, Akande intercepted him.

Akande pressed his arms over Siebren’s wrists, pinning them to Siebren’s sides, and resumed his iron grip on Siebren’s hips. 

Siebren expected a verbal scolding, but all he received was a powerful thrust that dragged Akande’s cock over his prostate. He groaned and leaned backwards, and one hand briefly left his hip and freed his arm. 

Akande hauled aside the neck of Siebren’s body stocking and resumed his grip. His teeth found Siebren’s neck, and Siebren felt pinned in more ways than one.

He was trapped, but he knew if he protested Akande would stop.

“Again,” he begged when Akande pulled back. “Please, please, I need this.” He groaned as the teeth held him down, and he felt tears on his face. The release was a wonderful balm, and he was glad Akande didn’t see the tears. 

Akande always stopped when Siebren cried.

He could feel Akande inside him, his hands digging into his hips, his arms pinning his wrists to his side. He could feel the icy air over his chest and neck, and the alternating gentle kisses and powerful nips on his neck and shoulder. Teeth settled in the space his neck met his shoulder, and Siebren could feet Akande erupt inside of him.

He was finally allowed to come, and what little strength he had in his legs fled. He knew he was an ugly crier, with snot and years of relief on his face, but right now he didn’t care. His energy ebbed with each wave of orgasm, and Sieben would have collapsed had Akande not been behind him.

Akande lowered Siebren to the ground, and waited. Finally, he spoke softly. “How are you, Bren?”

“Just... a little more time...” Siebren panted. He reached up with one hand, and felt it stop. His fingers were moved into a grasping position, and he settled backwards, knowing Akande had his hand. He controlled his breathing, and nodded. “I’m ready.”

After putting the heat on, Akande twisted a disk over the earpiece of the helmet, and slowly the sound returned to Siebren’s world.

Siebren could hear Akande’s breathing, he could make out some soft music, something with plenty of bass and drums. His cybernetic relays connected, letting him see the light of the play room as it was filtered through the helmet.

Akande noticed the glow as the sensors lit up. “You didn’t have to turn your sight off, Bren!” he scolded gently. He had found a cool, damp cloth and started wiping Siebren’s face clean.

“Don’t you know you’ll go blind, hm?” Siebren asked in a dreamy tone.

“Only if you do it to yourself,” Akande chuckled and sat with Siebren for a while. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up and I’ll rub your legs for you. Can you float, yet, or shall I carry you?”

Siebren wordlessly held his arms out, and Akande grinned and scooped him up. “Only this one time,” he scolded gently. Of course he said it each time, and carried Siebren anyways.

Just like always.

**Author's Note:**

> updated - had to make a few spelling corrections, and changed a few wordings, but nothing serious


End file.
